The Cost of Courage
by Philosophy Blue
Summary: In a world dominated by youkai, the subjugated humans are little better than slaves. Kagome is an anomaly; she refuses to be broken down. She will fight to the bitter end. And she will learn the cost of courage when she inevitably attracts the attention of taiyoukai Sesshomaru. **DARK**
1. Chapter 1

**Some day you guys are gonna track me down and kill me in my bed for having so many ongoing stories. :) But whatevs. I'll just lock my windows!**

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Be silent.

Be invisible.

Be respectful.

Be obedient.

And above all, be useful.

These are the five golden rules in Kagome's world. For the humans, at least. Youkai live however they want and do whatever they want. It's just how it is. The humans slave away under their command, and youkai gift them in return with death. In the tier of life, the youkai perch at the top, in the heavens, and humans are somewhere far below them, bound forever to the earth. Hanyou, of course, verge on hell. Again; it's just how it is.

And Kagome hates it.

She hates how no matter how the youkai mock them, ridicule them, _beat_ and _kill_ them, the humans don't say a word. They lower their heads and go on with their miserable lives, because they're scared; or worse, they don't think it is their right to fight back. They're scared what will happen to them, their families, if they speak out. No, not even that; just a simple misinterpreted look, and you are wiped off the face of the earth.

Like dogs.

They're useful. They're amusing sometimes. But if one acts up… Rest in peace. Or, more often than not, _pieces._

That is how Kagome grew up; second class, dominated by harsh, unfair laws. But whereas everyone else was beaten down by the never-ending sense of inferiority, it made her blossom. As her classmates' necks stiffened into permanently bent positions from staring at the ground all the time, she held her head proudly. As bright eyes dulled all around her, hers shone all the brilliantly, like a pair of diamonds in a pile of granite.

Because Kagome Higurashi was a fighter.

She never sparkled as much as when the situation was gloomy. She was never stronger than when she was helpless. She was never happier than when she was rebelling against her oppressors, whether it might be a small thing or not; a discreet middle finger aimed towards the back of a haughty youkai, or spiteful graffiti adorning the alleys.

Because Kagome Higurashi had a vendetta.

They had killed her best friend. They had made her watch as they beheaded and gutted him like a fish, and kicked him into the gutter like trash, that wolf demon with the dark ponytail and the harsh, mocking blue eyes, him and his pack. She'd watched alright, mute with horror as her best friend's life bled out onto the street, glistening dark red on the pavement. Then they had beaten her, slamming their fists and their feet and their knees and their words into her soft, unprotected body, again and again. When they had at last walked away, bent over with laughter, she'd sworn right then and there to herself as she sprawled in the street, her blood blending indistinguishably with that of her friend, that she would avenge him. She would avenge Inuyasha, her hanyou. She would never let the youkai transform her into one of the mindless faces that obeyed their every order. She would fight; she would live to fight, and die fighting. It was all she could do, and damn it all, she would do it.

And she has, all throughout the long years that have passed since that day when she lost everything but found a purpose. Spring to summer, summer to autumn, and autumn to winter and back to spring again, she is always fighting. She is the one face which stands out in the huge crowd of the oppressed. She is the light in the darkness.

It is winter again, the seventh one since that awful day, and soft snowflakes drift down from the sky, coating every exposed surface with its pristine white blanket. It wreaths Kagome's hair with icy flowers, delicate frosty petals alighting on her lowered lashes. In a colorless world, black and white and gray, her eyes are two pinpoints of blazing color, the purest blue there ever was. She breathes out and watches the physical manifestation of the proof that she is alive hover in the air, wispy and smoky, before it dissipates in the air, a brief moment of heat in an otherwise frigid environment… Just like her, she muses. Her life is but a brief flicker in the vast span of time. She looks up and thinks that the sky looks like it is falling. Just as she will fall one day.

But she has time, she thinks. She has time before it is her turn to be courted by death, before her identity is lost.

And that is where she is wrong. Her time is coming, sooner than she thinks, although it is not the kind of death she expects and longs for in her desolately dark, lonely heart. No, she will not see Inuyasha again. She will not meet and embrace death of the body. She will meet a much more dire fate.

Death of the soul.

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 **As you can probably tell, this will be an awfully dark story. I'm also trying out present tense. So... Tell me what you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Happy Halloween, y'all! I thought I'd update this story because it's the darkest one in my collection! So enjoy! ;D**

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CH 2

Enjoy life.

Dominate the humans.

Respect the alpha.

Those are pretty much all the rules in a demon's life, and because Sesshomaru is an alpha among alphas, he gets a lot of respect. So much respect, in fact, that he could choke on it. And he is also disobeying one of the rules, because he is not enjoying life. He is bored. So bored, in fact, that he is seriously contemplating suicide.

If you think about it, you might realize that this is quite logical. After all, he has so much prestige and respect that it has become monotonous, and of course, anything less than that is unthinkable. It is really quite simple. Sesshomaru, the Killing Perfection, the Taiyoukai who led the Youkai Revolution, which led to the society today, is done with life.

Nowadays, he avoids the luxurious section of the city and frequents instead the slums. In his dark, twisted mind, he enjoys seeing the humans being kicked around. In the neighborhood where he lives, the humans are rather like rats, living in the shadows. Here, they are everywhere, scurrying in the alleys.

He briefly contemplates joining in the fun himself, but he cannot bring himself to care enough. He simply watches, gaining a perverse satisfaction from the filthy blood that runs into the gutters, the various body parts that are strewn on the edges of the streets.

But even this pastime gets old after a time, and once again he is wondering how to kill himself. It seems impossible. His body is too perfect, it heals too quickly. Having someone else kill him is not an option; even if Sesshomaru stood there and allowed them to strike him as hard as they wanted, he doubted they could even come close to wounding him, and even if they did, his beast would kick in and fight back. This is a dilemma.

He is leaning against the wall one cloudy day, brooding over the problem, when he hears a commotion with his sensitive ears. At first, he wants to ignore it, but something seems off about this one. Instead of hearing laughing demons and screaming humans, he hears frustrated demons. He looks up, his amber eyes glowing through the veil of his silver bangs, and sees something decidedly intriguing.

A trio of demons surround a human girl. She is down in the street, curled up into a ball. Her raven hair is spread out into a halo around her head, and her blood runs down the pavement and into the snow.

They are beating her.

This is not anything new, but what is strange is that the girl is not making a sound. Even when the leader of the trio draws back his foot and kicks her stomach with such viciousness that she flies back fifteen feet into a brick wall, she is silent. She is silent as her back slams into that hard, unyielding surface, and she is silent still as she drops to the cement like a deadweight. She lands on her stomach, and she slowly raises herself to her hands and knees, dark hair shielding her face. The demons are furious. They are snarling as they bombard her with their blows. And the chilly air is filled only with their own frustrated howling.

A crowd is gathering, obstructing Sesshomaru's view. He pushes off from the wall and makes his way through the throng. He wonders why they do not simply finish her off, but then he realizes that they want to hear her scream first. They want to make her cry out her pain for all to hear, to moan and beg and plead for mercy. They will not stop until she caves; either her will or her body. Sesshomaru finds that he cannot predict which will come first. He, like the crowd, watches in silence as the girl is given what surely must be the beating of her life.

Two of the demons hold her up by the hair, and their leader strikes her across the face repeatedly. His claws are sharp, and her cheeks are soon tattered, blood spraying the air.

Sesshomaru sees that her eyes are closed. Add that to the fact that she is still silent, and she could be in a trance. But this cannot be, although she is limp as a doll, because when they let go of her hair and she crumples to the ground, she slowly pushes herself up. She will not stay down.

In disgust, the demons give her one last parting kick to the abdomen and walk away, disgusted. They are bored. They do not kill her because she still has not screamed. It is some twisted form of respect. They wander off in search of some other sport, leaving her broken and bloodied and silent in the snow.

Again, she rises shakily to her feet and stands there, ringed by crimson and spectators. Slowly, now that the show is over, the assorted humans and demons disperse. All but Sesshomaru. He simply returns to his wall, where he can watch her from the shadows. She remains in the street for some time. Just when he is getting tired of scrutinizing her, she raises her head and opens her eyes.

And he is mesmerized by the sheer blue of her irises. Especially in the bleached snow, against the dreary gray sky and colorless buildings, they are beautiful, framed with long, dark lashes. They are true blue, neither light nor dark. They are simply _blue_.

Sesshomaru realizes that he is not mesmerized simply by the color of her eyes; also by what is _in_ them. There is no fear, no pain, not even the dull flag-of-surrender look that all humans he has seen before have. There is no weakness. _Her_ eyes glow instead with anger. Anger and sadness and resentment and hatred and bitterness, all rolled up into one fierce glare.

Her eyes are blue fire.

He doesn't know how long he leans against the wall. Long after the girl has turned and walked away. He pays no attention to the passage of time, because he is thinking about her eyes, her beautiful eyes, and the searing flames that burn from within. It is not until after the streetlights come on, not until after the crescent moon has risen high into the sky, the moon that matches the one on his forehead, that Sesshomaru realizes something.

For the first time in decades, he is not thinking about suicide.

For the first time in decades, Sesshomaru is interested in life again. Or, more specifically, the girl with the fiery blue eyes.

He walks home, his shadow stretching out tall and lean behind him, a dark doppelganger that mirrors his every movement, as he considers this sudden new turn of events.

Yes, Sesshomaru is not bored anymore. For the better of the object of his interest or worse, it is not certain. But what is certain is that once he has his sights locked on prey, he will never let go until it, or rather she, is utterly and completely beaten. And now, that girl is his prey.

And he is the predator.

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 **How are you guys enjoying this so far? Oh yeah, and this is how Sesshy and Kags meet. Well, not really meet, but the first time Sessh sees Kags. He's not thinking of suicide anymore, so yay! I think it would be awful if he did... :( Anyhoo, please review on your thoughts. I have to know if this is gloomy enough! :D**

 **Oh, and for those of you who enjoy the horror genre, my friend No Uta has an excellent fic named Korekuta! I'd say it's even gloomier that mine! She's an awesome writer, I urge you to check her out! After, of course, reviewing... ;3**


	3. Chapter 3

CH 3

Two weeks later, Kagome trudges home alone after another beating, leaving a trail of crimson snow. Her body aches and every step jars her spine, but she keeps moving. She is afraid that if she stays still, her blood will freeze into jagged spikes and break through her skin. This fear is not irrational.

She was five, and she and her mother were returning from the market when they were cornered by a pack of youkai. The Panther Devas, they called themselves. They were powerful and they were bored, a lethal combination in demons. One of them, crowned with fiery hair, enclosed them within a ring of searing flames, to which the youkai were immune but not, of course, Kagome and her mother. The big brute had his fun sending currents of electricity through their bodies, and the little one created illusions so that they could not escape. After what the panther devas apparently deemed a significant amount of torture, they were about to let the battered humans go, until their leader decided she wanted some fun too. She grabbed Kagome's mother's arms and smirked savagely. Kagome at first was confused, because nothing seemed to be happening, no fire or lightning. But then the skin on her mother's forearms ripped apart, and scarlet spikes of frozen blood erupted from her flesh. Kagome screamed, and her mother screamed too, until the air was filled with an awful cacophony. The Panther Devas were hysterical, and as they laughed, Kagome and her mother broke free and ran. A couple of half-hearted streaks of fire and lightning followed them, but the youkai seemed to be more interested in receiving congratulations from the watching demons than actively pursuing their prey, having already meted out punishment.

Ever since that day, Kagome has had fears of her blood forcing itself, solid and icy, from her flesh, jutting out from her body so she looks like a bizarre porcupine. As for her mother, her arms miraculously healed, although with much scarring, but she still does not have proper functioning in her arm muscles. Her hands are always cold, as if the ice never thawed away.

"Kagome! Kagome!"

She looks up at the sound of her name, sung so sweetly by a child's untainted love. Her brother runs to meet her halfway down the street, his large eyes shining with the innocence of childhood that Kagome has protected jealously from the marauding youkai.

With a giggle, the six-year-old catapults himself into her arms, but she sets him down quickly with a wince. She will not have his clothes bloodied. She greets him with a gentle kiss to the alabaster brow that mirrors her own, save the bruising. "How was the day, Souta?"

"It was great!" announces her brother. "We played football today, and I was the best! Everyone wanted me on their team!"

Kagome smiles. She taught him how to kick the black-and-white ball back and forth, although she is no use at the sport herself. "Of course you were. I would expect no less from you."

Souta grins, exposing a gap in his front teeth, and follows her inside their home like an eager puppy. "I helped Mama make dinner today."

"Did you now? I bet it will be delicious."

His steps turn to skips in his excitement. "Guess what it is, Kagome."

"Is it… bread and water?" she teases, while actually wondering what it could be. They can never afford anything as fine as Souta is making it out to be with all his excitement. She prays her mother did not do something foolish as she takes off her black jacket in her room. Casting it to the cracked vinyl floor, she starts taking off her clothes, never mind that her brother is still in the room. Dark garment after dark garment falls to her feet. All her clothes are black, as those tend to hide bloodstains the best; both fresh ones and the ones that won't wash out. "Souta, can you hand me my sleeping shirt, please?"

"Yeah!"

Dressed in a baggy black shirt that fell to her knees, Kagome crosses the room and dips her hands into a bowl of water that rests in the corner. Slowly, so as to not cause any unnecessary pain, she washes her face, gently removing the blood. Souta watches her, fascinated, only just noticing the state of his beloved older sister.

"What happened, Kagome?"

She smiles weakly as she rubs at a persistent clot of dried blood on her cheek, flinching as she pokes a livid bruise too hard. "I fell… from the _top_ of a _looooooong_ flight of steps," she says with an air of confession. "It was super icy."

Naive and inexperienced, Souta accepts her words with a sympathetic coo and waits patiently as she finishes washing her face and dries off with a corner of her shirt. She will wash more thoroughly after dinner. "Let's go." She offers him her hand, and together they walk into the kitchen, where their mother waits, a tired smile on her prematurely lined face.

"Your favorite, Kagome," she says, displaying two bowls of steaming udon on the floor with pride.

"It's my favorite too!" protests Souta, who is determined to be just like his heroine.

Kagome is not pleased; much to the contrary, she is furious. But she does not let her brother see. She sits down with a faint look of consternation. In terse silence she pretends to eat, picking at her noodles, letting out the occasional sound of appreciation for his sake. Souta finishes before her, and as he begins to take his cracked plastic dishes to the tap, Kagome stops him. "I'll clean up. You go and wash up, Souta." When he leaves, she rounds on her mother, slamming the chopsticks down on the floor. "Are you crazy? How much did this stuff cost? You know we can't afford it!"

Her mother draws herself up with fire flashing in her eyes, mirroring her daughter, and for a moment it is easy to see how Kagome came to be from this woman. "Souta needs it, Kagome. He can't live off rotten rice and dirty water every day, like you and I can. You said it yourself; he should have only the best."

"That doesn't mean doing whatever you did to pay for this ridiculously expensive meal!" she explodes. "A couple minutes of pleasure is all it'll give you; once it's in your belly, it's the same as cheap old rice. It's _not worth it._ So out with it; what did you do?"

Her mother's eyes shift away. "It's none of your business," she says curtly. "Now are you going to eat your udon or not?"

"Did you even have any?" Kagome says suspiciously.

"No." Of course not.

"Then I won't either. Souta can have it tomorrow." Ignoring the complaints of her stomach, Kagome stalks to her room, wishing she had a door so she could slam it shut. Instead she dips a rag in the bowl of water and proceeds to wipe as much blood off her body as she can manage. Disgusted by the livid array of bruises across her body, she gives up and collapses. Her last thought before all fades to black is that if Souta should die, she would be right on his footsteps. There isn't much else keeping her anchored, both physically and mentally, to this hell.

And outside, a tall youkai pushes himself off the brick wall against which he was leaning and walks down the street, satisfied, because he now knows his prey's greatest weakness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ahh, it's been way too long since I last updated... I'll try to do better next time!**

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CH 4

The cafe is serene.

The decor is robin's egg blue with accents of mint green and pale brown, and customers can enjoy the variety of teas and cakes the menu offers while a huge expanse of glass gives them an unrivaled view of the beautifully tended street. All the customers, of course, are demons.

Sesshomaru sips blackberry and pine tea as he watches a human being methodically dissected outside the window. As pristine snow turns to crimson slush, as the air rings with the man's cries, Sesshomaru plots. Finally, when all the steaming hot organs lie discarded in the snow, scattered among chunks of flesh, his plan is complete. He drains the last of his tea and leaves the cafe, ignoring the blood-spattered youkai who scramble to rise from the dismembered carcass and bow reverently before him.

He makes his way leisurely through the streets of the Grand Sector, where the highest-ranked youkai live, allowing neither his stride nor his face to betray his eagerness. Despite his speed, however, he still arrives at his destination in good time. He enters the low-key, yet obviously luxurious single-story building, and strolls through the elegantly furnished lobby without acknowledging the youkai who bow and kowtow to him. He inquires after his target and learns his location. He rides the elevator down the sixth underground level-this building only goes down- and steps out when the doors open. His eyes instantly adjust to the dim lighting, allowing him to take in the sight of various instruments of torture placed strategically around the room. Only one station is in use.

A young human lies naked on a metal gurney, alive but unnaturally still. Her eyes are open wide and fixed on a large full-length mirror hanging parallel to her body above her that reflects her from head to toe, including the gaping hole in her stomach that reveals several missing organs, which are nowhere to be seen. Although the rest of her body is still, her lips are trembling, pathetic whimpers sliding out from between her clenched teeth, and from the corners of her unmoving eyes flow steady streams of tears.

By her side, standing so that his back is facing Sesshomaru, is a tall youkai with a dark ponytail. He turns, and a wolfish, bloody grin spreads across his ruggedly handsome face, his flinty blue eyes glowing in the dim light. "Lord Sesshomaru," calls Kouga, executing a casual salute. "What can I do for you?"

Without answering, Sesshomaru walks forward until he is looking down on the girl. She is even younger than he first thought. In human years, she would be less than ten years old. Perhaps seven or eight. "Just how are you spending your time nowadays, wolf?"

Kouga grins sheepishly. "I lost my taste for outright brutalizing a year or so ago. Then one of my buddies told me about this club, and what can I say? I've been hooked ever since. I like this level the best, but I still hang around the uppers from time to time. But who knows? I've got centuries to blow; maybe I'll even get sick of this club someday and just open up a private chamber at my den, for just my favorite pets."

"Was this one a pet too, or did you take her from the streets?"

"Streets. Saw her scrounging in one of the trash heaps. I was going to donate her to the club, but she ran. I'm a wolf, you know? She practically begged me to own her. For a gutter rat, she's pretty tasty. Want some?" Kouga offers him a dark red blob.

Sesshomaru takes a bite and passes it back. It is freshly harvested, and the juices run hot and thick down his throat, warming his body. "It is not bad." He licks his lips, getting the last of the taste.

A thin wail erupts from the girl on the gurney. Kouga turns back to the girl and strokes her face. "Does it upset you, knowing how delicious you are? Here, you can try." He abruptly shoves a chunk into her mouth, effectively gagging her. Turning back to Sesshomaru, Kouga says, "The mirror was my idea. This way, they can see what's happening to them, yeah? Now everyone at this club's copycatting me."

Acknowledging this with a slight nod, Sesshomaru says, "I have another task for you."

"Alright then," says the wolf demon, eager to please. "Which one is it this time? Another hanyou?"

"No, it is a human. A young boy, a little older than this girl."

"And make an example of him, just like I did with that half-breed mutt, right?"

"Yes. There will be an older girl who tries to protect him. Do not harm her, but make her watch everything that you do to the boy. The goal is to break her from the inside."

"Gotcha. Any preferences as to where and when this should happen?"

"Tomorrow. They live in the derelict apartment building next to the broken fountain shaped like a urinating baby angel. As the boy returns from school-corner him then, but wait until the girl arrives before playing the main game. Kill anyone else who tries to interfere."

"Will you be there?"

Sesshomaru smirks. "That is not even a question, wolf prince."

Kouga smirks back. "Let me finish up with this one here real quick, and I'll start making the preparations."

"Acceptable." Sesshomaru turns on his heel and leaves, his last picture of the scene being that of Kouga tearing ravenously into the wailing girl.

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 **Please review! :3**


	5. Chapter 5

**ATTENTION!**

 **There is graphic violence in this chapter. It is vital to the story, however it is potentially very disturbing. It doesn't even compare to last chapter. Proceed at your own discretion!**

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CH 5

The boy is crying.

It is quite irritating, enough so that Kouga is considering ending his life here and now. However, his fear of Lord Sesshomaru is stronger than his annoyance, so he satisfies himself with smacking the human on the back of the head.

"Ah, shut up, ya little runt."

The boy tries not to cry, but fat tears roll steadily down his cheeks. He whimpers softly.

Kouga sighs. He doesn't like this. Damn, hunting down that little inu hanyou years ago was more fun than this. What is that girl doing anyways? According to his Lord, she was supposed to be here some minutes ago.

Time passes by insufferably slowly, and Kouga is on the verge of setting out to see what held up the girl when a delicious scent floods his nose.

 _Ahh._

Almost unconsciously, he inhales, noting that it seems faintly familiar. Then he snaps to, berating himself for getting distracted so easily, and motions for his henchmen to begin with the torture.

As the boy's first screams begin to ring out, she arrives, limbs sweaty and face flushed. Despair is etched in every line of her body, and as Kouga looks her up and down, he decides he likes what he sees. Dark waves of hair framing a pale face, and a pair of beautiful blue eyes… Yes, very lovely. He will have to see about claiming her as his pet. But now, the issue is with her welp of a brother.

"Look who decided to join the party," he calls, addressing the girl but looking at the boy as he grabs his chin roughly. His pack have surrounded the girl and are holding her back.

"Let him go!" she shouts, and to his surprise, there is no pleading her voice. Just firm determination. What a reprieve from the usual begging and groveling he usually receives from humans. Another reason he wants her.

"Tell me, sweetness, why should I do that?"

She glares at him. "Because I'll be a more interesting punching bag."

Kouga grins. "I agree, sugar. Unfortunately, your brother has been a pesky brat, and we've been told to dispose of him."

"That's a lie!" she cries. "You know the rules, youkai! You must leave alone the humans who work hard and stay under your feet. And I know that my brother is quiet, industrious, and submissive! Leave him alone!"

She's speaking so firmly to him, it's kind of turning him on. He can't wait to play with this one. "Sorry, darling. Orders are orders." Kouga casually nicks the boy directly under his eyebrow, causing blood to drip into his eye. His puny arms are restrained, so he can't wipe it away. This is fun.

"Sister! Help me!"

"Stop it! Kill me instead. You know you'll enjoy it more! This human or that, what does it matter?"

She's talking to him, trying to distract him, but Kouga has smelled blood. Almost as if he's in a trance, he rips the boy's shirt away from his body and drags his claws down his stomach. The human screams and writhes under his touch. He loves it.

"Stop it!"

Her voice, though lovely, fades to an faint nagging in his consciousness as he breathes in the delicious scent of blood. This one actually smells quite tasty, really unique from the rest of the humans. Kouga can't help himself and he sinks onto his knees, his tongue flicking out to trace the rivulets of blood streaming down the boy's bare, trembling torso.

 _Ahhhh…_

Kouga suddenly stands up and hits the boy hard across the face, sending a couple teeth flying.

More screaming, both in front of and behind him.

He's in a daze now as he leans forward and captures the boy's lips in a devouring kiss. The blood, it's so intoxicating. He's never tasted anything like it before. There's a _purity_ that makes his tongue tingle, and it's addicting. He wants more. More. He draws back and hits the boy again and again. He rakes his claws down those frail shoulders, those thin arms.

Soon the boy's flesh is tattered, and Kouga is in sheer bliss as his tongue caresses the human all over, licking up all the blood he can get. The wolf demon is panting now, and his eyes are bleeding red. This blood, why does it taste so good?

Desperate for more, Kouga plunges his hand deep into the boy's stomach, ignoring his frantic thrashing, and draws it out, a fistful of something dark in his hand. Behind him, there's a shrill wailing, but he tunes it out. He tears into the steaming hot liver, and the taste that floods his mouth is divine. His fangs are elongating, and the whites of his eyes are completely red as he goes back in for more.

The human is limp, tears streaming down his bloody face. Kouga motions for his pack to pin the boy face up to the ground. He drops to his hands and knees and buries his face in the gaping hole in his abdomen and feasts. The blood is getting everywhere. It's smeared on his face, it streaks his hair, it's spattered on his clothes, but he doesn't care, because he's in pure ecstasy. He eats and he eats, and his soul youkai is raging inside of him, growing and swelling. At some point, he gives up control, and he is in his true form, a great, towering wolf with slavering jaws who swallows the bottom half of the boy in one gulp and sniffs at what's left, scarlet eyes glowing. With a snarl, Kouga finishes off the boy, the bones crunching between his fangs. His whole body shivers. He feels so powerful, so… insatiated.

He turns his great head and Kouga looks down at his pack, who howl up at him in their human forms, and the girl, who is shaking as they hold her securely. They cheer for him, their alpha, their leader.

Dimly, he remembers that he is not supposed to harm the girl, but his soul youkai is hungry. He wants more. Kouga stalks forward, intent on devouring the girl, but a malicious pulse of dark youki holds him at bay.

 _The Lord Alpha_.

His soul youkai acknowledges the Great Dog Leader as the ultimate alpha, and it backs down rather reluctantly, slinking back into the depths of Kouga's consciousness. He begins the transformation back into a human, and before he knows it, he is on his hands and knees again, and his hair has fallen out of its ponytail. He's covered in blood and snow.

He rises to his feet, trying to tame his mind. He grins at the girl with bloody fangs. "You can let her go now," he tells his pack, his voice still gravelly. They obey, albeit roughly, and she stumbles forward, her head hanging forward.

"I hope you and your family have learned a lesson here today," he says nonchalantly, as if he has not just devoured her little brother whole. "Take care that you don't step out of line in the future." He turns on his heel, but an uneasy prickle in the back of his mind makes him look back.

She's still looking down, her hair falling forward to obscure her face. Slowly, she looks up, and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Her eyes are _glowing_.

"What the fuck…"

Her aura, barely detectable before, is expanding and churning around them, a tempest of chilling ill-intent. Kouga and his pack back away as one, murmuring uneasily.

"Hey, what's going on?"

The girl screams, an eerie, heart-wrenching caterwaul that pierces their sensitive ears. Her spiritual energy slams into them, and his pack is purified on the spot.

Kouga, blistering and sizzling, is shocked. The purity is just like her brother's, only much more potent. Suddenly, the blood in his stomach is as heavy as iron, weighing him down as he tries to run.

"She's a _fucking miko_ ," he manages to get out, and then there's a flash of gray light, an instant of an eternity of burning agony, and then…

There's nothing.

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 **...And that's Day Seven of 12 Days of Christmas, in which I update a SessKag story or post a oneshot every day up until and including Christmas Day!**

 **Previously, we had _Caged Miko_ : a canon piece in which Kagome is captured and sold into slavery, and ends up in Sesshomaru's hands. **

**Next, we'll have...** (well I don't really know, this was my last fully prepared chapter. I have a rough complete draft of) **_A Petal in Murky Waters_ , however: When his mother curses him with a mortal's appearance and banishes him to a human village in hopes of teaching him a lesson, Sesshomaru doesn't expect to find someone worthy of being his mate, his refusal to do so among the noble ladies of the court being the very reason he was cast away in the first place. Oh, the irony. **

**Also I have my last three finals tomorrow, so hopefully I'll get time to polish up aPiMW and jot down more updates ;)**

 **Cheers!**

 **Philosophy Blue**


	6. Chapter 6

**Ah, this should be standard procedure by now, but there is explicitly violent and disturbing imagery in this chapter. Read at your own risk!**

-oOo-

CH 6

The snow is thawing.

Touran glances regretfully at the shrinking ice and sighs. She can already feel her powers beginning to wane. Of course, Shunran is joyful, sending flurries of petals spiraling in the sky with jubilant thrusts of her hands. Karan is glad as well, winter having dulled her strength, and spring signalling the coming of her own peak of power; summer. Shuran, that oaf, is dumbly obedient, as always.

"I'm bored, Touran, let's do something." Karan casually blows a fireball at a passing human, who yelps and slaps at their burning hair.

Touran sends a shower of ice crystals into the air. They turn into deadly spears at the apex of their arc and slam forcefully into the ground in random formation. "We could duel."

"We duel _all_ the time." Karan sends a petulant thread of flame winding in the air in Touran's direction, and it is quickly encased in solid ice. The ice melts but extinguishes the flame, and falls to the ground as a sheet of water. "This is tiresome."

"We haven't received any orders to terminate a human, so we can't do a thing," Shunran pouts. "What's the point of being a youkai and having all this time if there's nothing to spend it on?" She breaks off and watches with avid interest as a human staggers by with bloodied, bandaged stumps for arms. "Hey, you," she calls arrogantly. "What happened?"

"An accident… at the packing factory, ma'am," rasps the girl, who has yet to look up. Her dark hair hangs in a lank curtain around her face, concealing all but her nose and mouth.

The Panther Devas exchange smirks. They cannot target a functioning human, but cripples who cannot serve the regime are fair game.

"I don't want anyone butting in," said Touran quietly. "We take her to a side alley." Her subordinates nod. As one, they advance on the human and force her into the space between two buildings; a crack, really, filthy with grime and garbage. Shuran takes up post at the mouth, guarding from the inside and out.

Touran chuckles as they stalk the girl, who is bent over, shoulders are shaking in what they assume is fear, as they cannot see her face. "My, my. A young female at the prime of her life… so tragically injured. Whatever shall we do?" She placed a delicate hand on her hip in mock thought. "What do you think, friends?"

"Put her out of her misery, of course," sneers Karan, the tip of her tail twitching. "And simultaneously amuse ourselves. Ha!" She sends a spear of fire at the girl, and wrinkles her nose when it is dodged. "Hmm. Try this one on for size!" She summons a trio of yellow fireballs and fires them, one after the other, with a feline laugh. Her smile vanish as again, her attacks are evaded. "You're a human, aren't you?"

"She may be a diluted hanyou," says Touran calmly, stepping forth. "Get back, Karan." With a cold smile, Touran calls forth a slim baton of shimmering blue ice and slams it into the ground. Ice spreads rapidly out from the point of contact, lowering the temperature by several degrees.

"Hey!" complains Karan as her fires burn lower.

"I'll make it up to you later." Touran raises the baton high in the air, and the sky bristles with a hundred spikes of ice. At her command, they fly at the girl. In a flurry of ice shards, the spikes meet and shatter. The Devas' smirks slip off their faces as the debris clears and they realize that the girl has vanished.

Karan curses. "What's going on? She's definitely a hum- -" She screams as a painfully hot hand closes around her wrist from behind. In a blur of agony, the demoness falls to her knees. Her arm is beginning to disintegrate. Desperately, she tries to light her fires, but smoke is all she can summon. She cannot move. Her superior youkai limbs are rigid and refuse to obey her frantic will. "Touran!"

The elder panther is frozen as she locks eyes with the person behind her subordinate. The human girl is staring straight at her, hateful eyes blazing like blue fire. In her daze of disbelief, Touran sees that the girl's hands are perfectly fine. The bloodied bandages lie crumpled on the alley ground, lit faintly with the glow of the girl's powers. Powers… the girl is a miko. Like a pale winter sunrise, it dawns on her. The reports of youkai disappearing recently, it was her! It was this wretched slip of a girl with powers forbidden by youkai law. The bloody hands… it was a trap. Oh god, like a pathetic mortal mouse, they had fallen for the obvious trap. They, the Panther Devas!

Karan crumples to the ground, rapidly disintegrating into glittering essence. With a shriek, Shunran flies at the girl, flowers whipping angrily around her. With a calm smile, the miko opens her arms wide and embraces the furious youkai. The panther's body begins to crack, as if made of porcelain. Miko light shines through the crevices, almost blinding Touran. Shunran screams, but the miko's arms are wound tightly around her, and she is weakening quickly as her muscles fail. With a wail, a second comrade falls. Next is Shuran, charging forth with an enraged roar to avenge his clan.

"W-wait," Touran tries to call, but her voice is weak. She can only watch as her friend falls to his knees, and his head slides off his shoulders in a flurry of essence. Just like that, she is the only one left.

The miko turns around slowly and smiles at Touran, and the light of her miko powers reflect eerily on her delighted features. "Come, let us dance."

What is wrong with her, dammit? Touran has faced far stronger foes than this wisp of a girl, but somehow she can barely move. Her thoughts float as heavily as though through honey, and her body is numb. Is this fear? Ridiculous. She has been around since long before the Youkai Revolution and subsequent subjugation of all holy blood. She has even faced priests and the occasional miko, and cut them down with ease. But what is this? This power, it is different. It burns like a thousand suns, and yet numbs like the most unforgiving frigidity of glaciers.

This girl… Is she _human?_

"Don't tell me you're afraid," the miko chuckles. "Come, youkai. I will lead you in your final dance." She smirks with dark promise. "Entertain me… as I entertained you seventeen winters ago."

Touran's face shows confusion.

"Have you forgotten? How could you?" tuts the miko, stepping closer. "Well, it doesn't matter. I remember that day so well… Do you know, my mother's arms are still scarred from that incident? They still shake with every movement, and her hands are always cold, so cold…" _However cold the hands may be_ , Touran thinks with a chill, _they cannot even approach the absolute frigidity of this miko's glare._

"I do not remember!" Touran protests. "Are you insane? Surrender now, miko, and I will ensure a quick death. No matter what you do, the youkai _will_ find you, and when they do, it will not be pretty."

"I don't fear my death," says the miko darkly. "You demons have already stolen my life several times over. Now, all I care for is the extermination of as many youkai as I can manage. I owe that much to those who have laid down their lives for me." Her mouth stretches wide in a hideous grin. "Now, Deva… dance for me."

Touran shouts as the ground beneath her feet explodes with miko energy. She leaps to the side, but is unable to dodge the next shot, which slices through her forearm. Her severed wrist falls to the frozen ground, pale and lifeless. Blood gushes from her wound, and Touran cries out in agony. But she has no time to rest. The miko truly makes her dance, leaping from side to side, twisting this way and that. By the time the miko stops firing, Touran is a mess. Her other arm has been ripped off at the shoulder, her legs lie in bloody pieces in the snow, her eye is gone, and there is a gaping hole in her stomach. With a sob, Touran crumples to the ground, armless, legless… prideless. She prays for death, and cries with fear as she hears the miko approach. She rolls onto her back, blinking up at the dark silhouette through her tears. "Just kill me, goddamnit!"

"I'll get to that in a moment," she replies with a gentle smile that does not reach her hateful eyes. The miko bends down and grasps the stumps left of Touran's legs.

"What… What are you doing?" The youkai's voice is shrill with terror. "Please… please no more!"

"Shhh." The miko spreads the stumps wide and settles herself between them. Touran looks into that cold face, and she knows then… _this girl is not sane_. She begins to struggle, and with a sneer, the miko makes another cut with her miko light, slicing off another piece of one of the stumps that were once long, graceful legs. The youkai screams, and the miko reaches up and seals her glowing hand over her mouth. There is a sizzle and an awful burning smell, and Touran is reduced to quiet whimpers. "Now, now…"

The girl holds up her hand and clenches it into a fist, lit with livid flames of miko energy. With a gruesome smile, she thrusts her fist between Touran's legs.

" _Ahhhhh!_ " Touran's agonized cry rips through the melted flesh sealing her mouth shut in a spray of blood.

She withdraws, then enters again.

Screaming. Sobbing, crying, begging. More screaming.

When the panther finally falls silent, the miko rises to her feet and looks around at the destruction she has wrought. Four piles of glittering ashes are spread out in the bloodied snow. She picks up the bloody bandages and tucks them in her pocket. With snake-like coldness in her eyes, she dusts off her hands. Around her, the sound barrier falls with a whisper.

Ever since the day her brother was slaughtered and _eaten_ , she has been luring youkai to their deaths in dark, secluded alleys. Word has gotten out that youkai are disappearing, but most dismiss this, too smug and confident in their strength to fear the same fate themselves. These Devas were a prime example of that. They stalked her as their prey, and ultimately ended up being butchered themselves like the pigs they were. She will continue this until she kills the last youkai, or is killed herself. There's no purpose to her life if it is not hunting youkai.

She looks up into the gray sky. Snow is beginning to fall again. In a moment of childish wistfulness, she extends her tongue out and catches a snowflake on her tongue. Then she remembers; the last time she did such a thing, it was with a lively bundle of excitement and child-innocence by her side. With an ugly look, she spits out the melted snow, straight onto the ashes of once-Touran.

"Tch. Still a better end than they deserved," Kagome murmurs coldly, and stalks into the night.

-oOo-

 **On that cheerful note, Happy Mother's Day on Sunday!**

 **If you have been enjoying this story, then please leave a review. :) If not, review anyways and tell me what I can do better.**

 **Cheers!**

 **Philosophy Blue**


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